


Estinien Wyrmblood Gets Bullied By Sassy Lost Children

by CyborgMage



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Estinien does not know how to talk to people, Gen, Humor, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Tataru and Krile do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyborgMage/pseuds/CyborgMage
Summary: Estinien pays a visit to the Rising Stones and finds himself cornered by the most terrifying force known to man or beastman.Some Lalafells who want him to do something.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Estinien Wyrmblood Gets Bullied By Sassy Lost Children

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at writing fic in order to post it... pretty much ever. I decided to dust off an idea I had since 5.0 dropped, when I thought the idea of Krile and Tataru managing to talk the resident stinky bastard dragoon into going to Garlemald for them was really funny and decided to write about it. Unfortunately, I'm chronically lazy and never finished it until now, so in the meantime Sqare Enix released a short story (Echoes of Delusion) doing the exact same thing, so here I am in AU jail.
> 
> Special thanks to [Nightmist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmist) for beta reading and helping me get over that last bit of "but what if I don't know how to write" anxiety.

“I would offer to keep you apprised of their condition, but there is the small issue of how to find you-”

“I already know all I need to know. Do not trouble yourself.”

Estinien strode out of the sick room, offering only a sidelong glance to the guard posted outside. The Scions, his comrades (if only on occasion), were comatose despite all attempts to wake them, but otherwise healthy. The thought of it threatened to gnaw at him, but his escapades alongside the (also erstwhile) Warrior of Light at the close of the Dragonsong War had taught him much about the dangers of obsessing over that which one cannot change - even though it had also forced him to re-evaluate much of what he thought was unchangeable.

He found this musing cut short as his departure from the Rising Stones was interrupted by a… Miqo’te child? No, a Lalafellin woman in a hooded coat. Which had cat ears attached to said hood.

This seemed about right for the company the Scions kept.

“My my, are you by chance Estinien Wyrmblood? What brings Ishgard’s famed Azure Dragoon to Mor Dhona of all places?”

“ _Former_ Azure Dragoon.” He responded evenly, glossing over her question. It was a title from a different part of his life, one fraught with both pride and fury. He had long since given up any attachment to it.

“Oh, my mistake. I suppose that leaping dozens of fulms into the air and hunting down the last traces of Nidhogg’s shade are both hobbies now, then?” The woman giggled, and Estinien found himself trying to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up, her joviality forcing his brain to not entirely process the fact she probably shouldn’t know about that second part.

“But where are my manners? I am Krile Meyer, one of the Students of Baldesion. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Krile smiled at him and held out her hand, seemingly unaware that she was talking to someone well over twice her height. Estinien looked at her outstretched arm, still rattled by her knowledge of his supposedly personal mission in Gyr Abania. Dragons he knew, dragons he could handle. He had no idea how to deal with what was going on right now. After a few awkward moments, he finally knelt and shook her hand.

“My question still stands, by the way.” She continued to smile, even as she looked directly into his eyes and pressed him for information. Estinien was beginning to find it unnerving. She looked as though she knew that he was going to tell her exactly what she wanted to know, and that she was comfortable enough waiting for him to do it of his own accord.

“I heard rumours of the Scions and their present condition, and came here to set them to rest. It would be unfortunate for me to have saved them at Castrum Abania only for them to die in their beds a few months later, to say nothing of Alphinaud or the Warrior of Light.”

Godsdammnit, that was exactly what was happening.

“Yes, it is rather vexing.” Krile’s smile softened just a touch, a hint of weariness creeping into her features. “Though we are still working to understand, and hopefully remedy, their ailment.” Suddenly, she perked up again, as though the two of them hadn’t exchanged a single word about the Scions or their illness. “On a more interesting note, however, I may just have some information about our heroic friend and their whereabouts.”

Estinien’s heart very nearly skipped a beat as he forced himself to conceal his surprise. For all his bluster about saving the Scions, it was the Warrior who had saved him from Nidhogg’s bottomless rage, and not a soul had seen or heard from them in weeks. And yet here this tiny, cat-eared scholar was, claiming to know where they are. His mind raced. Where could the saviour of Eorzea thrice over be that no-one would notice them? Where did Krile get this information? Why did it seem like she was the only one who knew? He hardly knew what to ask first, and found himself interrupted again before he could even try.

“Estinien, is that you? Gods, it’s been ages!”

The high, room-filling voice of Tataru Taru needed no introduction. Estinien looked to his side and found the other Lalafell standing between him and the exit, much to his own shock. He had tracked dragons through the snows of Coerthas for years. How in Halone’s name did a humble secretary manage to sneak up on him?

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted.” Krile once again responded before Estinien could gather his thoughts, and only now let go of his hand. It was all he could do not to whip his head back around to face her.

“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re _personally_ acquainted, but you can’t really hang around Ishgard for long without learning quite a bit about her most famous dragonslayer.” Tataru beamed at him. Almost literally. Estinien swore he could feel physical heat radiating from her face.

“That can change, of course. Might I convince you to stay for tea?” Krile said, that same expectant smile on her face. Estinien looked from one face to the other, feeling increasingly out of his depth. The man who earned his fame killing dragons was surrounded by Lalafells, and _that_ was making him nervous. The sheer absurdity boggled his mind. He had to get out.

“I planned to make only a short visit, and there are other matters that require my attention. I must be on my wa-”

Estinien made the mistake of looking back at Tataru, just in time to see the light (again, almost literally) fade from her eyes. He had come face to face with Nidhogg and watched the Garleans fire their most terrifying weapons on their own soldiers. The sight of Tataru Taru with tears welling up in her eyes chilled his spirit just as much as either of those horrors.

* * *

Estinien Wyrmblood found himself seated at a table, with Lalafell women to his left and right, a dainty porcelain cup filled with black tea in front of him and his sense of control over this entire situation about as far away as Azys Lla. Krile and Tataru chatted amongst themselves over their own cups, having already managed to pry smalltalk of all things from him. Tataru briefly glanced over to him, before lowering her eyes to his cup.

“Aren’t you going to drink your tea, Estinien?”

He didn’t know what else to do except to oblige her, and so he lifted the cup to his lips. The taste was perhaps the first entirely pleasant surprise he had encountered in this entire mess. The tea was extremely sweet, and yet just shy of being disgustingly so, and just beneath that sweet surface lay hints of lemon and orange, acting as a perfect compliment. It was the best damn thing he had tasted for a long time, and apparently it showed.

“I thought you might enjoy it. That’s a rather special blend; I picked it up during my stay in Kugane. It’s extremely hard to come by here in Eorzea, but, well, this is a special occasion, isn’t it?”

Estinien’s instincts, just barely adapting themselves to deal with a foe without ilm-thick scales and scorching breath, detected another ploy. They wanted him to stay and keep talking - or keep listening- and they knew he’d had nothing better than rations to eat or drink for weeks, if not longer. Since moving the rage and the need for vengeance of his youth, he had been consumed by the less violent - yet no less compelling - need to atone and rid the world of the evils wrought with the elder wyrm’s eyes; by himself, by his countrymen and by others still. All over Hydaelyn. It wasn’t a lifestyle that left him much room for leisure and luxury.

This little tea party was the first instance of either he had experienced in recent memory, the Scions were dangling it in front of him as one might a carrot before a donkey, and he was powerless to resist.

The best course of action these overwhelmed instincts could present was to repurpose a tried and true response from his earliest sparring sessions: roll with the blow, and strike at whatever opportunity presents itself.

“You mentioned having news about the Warrior of Light?” He said, looking over his teacup at Krile. It was a blunt and to the point response; neither his career nor his preferred company (i.e. none) had given him much experience with etiquette. 

“Oh, goodness, yes. I’m not sure how I let myself get sidetracked from it; ‘tis quite the fascinating tidbit of information. And rather secret, but, well, you hardly strike me as much of a gossip.” She punctuated that remark with a side-eyed glance at Estinien and a conspiratorial smile as she set her own teacup down. “From what I have heard, our star - perhaps even the cosmos as we know it - is not the only one, and is in fact surrounded by thirteen remarkably similar reflections, or ‘shards’. The Warrior of Light now ventures there - as do the Scions, at least in mind and spirit, as all of them have been summoned there by some great mage of that reality. To varying degrees of success, I might add, hence the present condition of their bodies.” She sighed, worry and bitterness creeping into her expression in equal measure.

Estinien, meanwhile, could only do his best to keep his mouth from falling agape in shock. Though he had little reason to doubt the scholar, he at the same time could barely begin to imagine the scope of what she was suggesting. He had heard tales that Midgardsormr, father to all dragonkind, arrived on Hydaelyn from somewhere amongst the stars, but what Krile was describing seemed to him to be something else entirely. His mind raced, and he knew not how to form his questions, nevermind which one to ask first. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth, and Krile appeared to notice, answering his question (or whatever one she thought he was about to ask) preemptively.

“Not that they have been kidnapped _per se_ , nor have they stricken out in search of mere fame and fortune. No, this concerns the Ascians, and their plans for another Calamity - plans which, as far as we presently understand them, require a great imbalance of aspected aether not just in our world, but in one of these shards as well. The Scions have for some time observed strange phenomena in our world, such as an apparent “thinning” of aetheric flow, that we now believe to be symptoms of that shard’s imbalance as it begins to resonate here. The Warrior and their companions, therefore, have set about undoing the Ascians’ plans for that world, in the hopes that it will avert the Calamity looming over ours.”

Saving the world, then. Some things about his old travelling companion and their circumstances never changed, Estinien mused, even in spite of the strange tale Krile was relaying to him. A small, long silent part of Estinien’s mind raised its voice to bemoan this fact, that the Warrior was going about their work without him - even if the last time he became involved in their tale, it was a matter of coincidence, of convenience, as much as anything else. His curiosity sated, Estinien downed the last of his (delicious, tragically rare) tea and set his cup down. Before he had the chance to so much as try to sit up, Krile resumed speaking.

“Though that’s not to say we should remain idle here, of course. It would be best for us to attack this latest scheme on two fronts, and as it happens, we believe we have found the would-be catalyst for this Calamity. We have heard rumours… among other things… of a Garlean chemical weapon, which the Emperor is planning to unleash in order to break the stalemate in Gyr Abania - much like how his predecessor was convinced to back the Meteor Project that ushered in the previous Calamity, or how the Black Wolf very nearly unleashed another with his Ultima Weapon. The Scions would very much like to investigate these rumours, but all of our number who would be up to such a task are, well, otherwise preoccupied.” She cast a glance in the direction of the sick room with that remark.

Estinien knew he would have little chance of escape if he allowed these two to keep talking. Each and every time he had tried to leave before now, they knew exactly what to say to keep him there. He had to make his move while he still had the chance. Tentatively, he began to push his chair back from the table, earning a look of concern from Krile.

“You would be perfect for such a task, and the people of Ishgard - _your_ people - now stand alongside the Eorzean Alliance at the Ghimlyt Dark. Will you not aid them?”

“I no longer hold any rank in Ishgard, and what my people do now, or what befalls them as a result, is their burden to bear. I have plenty of my own as it is.”

Tataru, who until this point had quietly been enjoying her own serving of tea and biscuits, now looked up from the table. Estinien mentally steeled himself for what she was about to say; these two wanted him to trek deep into the heart of the Empire and risk life and limb for a war he had no part in, and _by the Fury’s frozen nipples he was not about to let them talk him into it._

“Surely this is the next best thing to fighting alongside the Warrior of Light, since there’s no way for you to make your own way to the first. Are you content to let them save the world themselves, without so much as raising a hand?”

That dissenting voice in Estinien’s head roared in defiance, and he could at last put a name to it. It was pride, damnable pride, bloody-minded and foolish pride that he thought well and truly drowned after his possession by Nidhogg. It screamed at the prospect of being outdone by his ally, his friend, his rival, it dared not imagine a world where he had no part in their victory. His jaw clenched at the thought, as Tataru looked him straight in the eye, resting her chin in her hands, and smiled that warm, innocent smile.

* * *

Their group trudged quietly through the hills and moors; The Imperial heartland was a bleak and unforgiving place to traverse without the aid of the Empire’s highways or flying machines, and as neither Estinien, nor Gaius, nor any member of his band of shadow hunters were much for small talk, their long journey was spent in silence. That is, until a thought crossed Gaius’ mind as he looked over to his travelling companion. Though Estinien no longer wore the distinctive armour of an Ishgardian Dragoon, he still wielded perhaps their most impressive lance, and the distinctive grace with which he wielded it was a striking contrast against the rigid and regimental Imperial forces he now found himself confronted with.

“The Azure Dragoon - retired or no - does not strike me as someone with much reason to venture into the heart of Garlemald, lest some forgotten wyrm sleeps beneath the Imperial Palace without my knowledge. What exactly brings you here, to the trail of Black Rose?”

Estinien turned his head to face him, tight-lipped, exhaustion chiseled into every corner of his face.

“I was emotionally manipulated by a pair of Lalafells.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the [book club](https://discord.gg/EE4qNGX) for having possibly one of the best server names on Discord, and also being a bunch of really cool, encouraging folks who helped me to finish this fic and generally start writing again.


End file.
